Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
We were in a big government helicopter. The kind reserved for the highest-level officials in Japan—the Prime Minister and top cabinet members. People who moved through the world with absolute authority and zero questions asked.
Reo had called in the favor before I'd even woken up this morning. One conversation with the right person with a mention of my name, and we had access to the entire fleet.
From the outside, we looked like a military escort for government officials.
Legitimate.
Untouchable.
Bulletproof exterior. Sleek black interior. Reinforced walls. Leather seats lined both sides, and everyone was strapped in tight.
I could see five other helicopters through the tinted windows. They flew in formation around us, heading to different landing zones across the city. Each one carried more of my men.
More weapons.
More death.
Reo was up front with a few of his men. They had a map spread out across their laps, and Reo was pointing to something with his finger. Although his voice was low, I could hear fragments of what he was saying.
"There’s another service entrance here. Exit route through the eastern tunnel if we get separated. Rendezvous point is there. Got it?"
One of his men nodded and made a note on the map.
Reo never stopped planning. Even now, minutes away from landing, he was running through contingencies and backup plans for the backup plans.
That was why he was my Roar.
On the other side of the helicopter, the Claws were huddled together with Hiro.
Kaede sat with his back straight and hands folded in his lap. His platinum-blond hair was tied back, and his expression was calm. In fact, Kaede's eyes were closed. His lips were moving, but no sound came out.
I'd seen this before. Every time, right before we walked into something that could kill us, Kaede prayed. He never talked about it. Never told anyone who or what he prayed to. But he did it without fail.
Pray for all of us, Kaede.
When he was done, he opened his eyes and all the serenity was gone.
Daisuke was next to him with his sharp black mohawk catching the dim light. He was checking his knives and running his thumb along the edge of one blade, testing its sharpness.
Furthest from Hiro, Toma grinned. His bright purple mohawk stood up in a wild flame, and the tattoos crawling up his throat seemed to move in the shifting light. He was loading a magazine into his gun and humming something under his breath.
The twins, Aki and Yuki, sat in perfect sync. Both had their heads tilted at the same angle and hands resting on their knees in identical positions. They didn't speak, but I saw them exchange a glance. Some silent communication that only they understood.
Hiro was in the middle of them with another black lollipop between his teeth. Hiro pulled it out and pointed it at Toma. "Alright. Let's make this interesting."
Toma's grin widened. "I'm listening."
The twins looked at each other. Then one of them reached over and straightened Toma's vest strap without saying anything. Toma didn't acknowledge it either. Like it had happened a hundred times before.
Hiro stretched out his hands. "Whoever gets the most kills wins the prize."
Kaede raised an eyebrow. "What prize, Hiro?"
“Hmmm.” Hiro put the lollipop back in his mouth and then looked at me. "Kenji. You still have Chimamire in the armory?"
"The cursed sword?"
"That's the one."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I still have it."
The memory came back to me unbidden. A fight in a cemetery three years ago.
One of our enemies had ambushed us in the dark, and the battle had spilled between the gravestones. By the time we'd finished, bodies were scattered across the sacred ground, and blood had soaked into the earth.
That's when I'd seen it.
Chimamire.
The sword had been sticking straight up out of a man's head. The blade had gone clean through his skull and embedded itself in the ground beneath him. The handle gleamed in the moonlight, and something about it had called to me.
I went for it.
Reo had told me not to take it. "We shouldn't touch anything from a cemetery, Kenji. Especially not a weapon that's been used to kill on holy ground."
But I'd taken it anyway.
And from that night on, the sword had been strange.
Any time blood touched the blade, it never washed off. The stains would darken and spread, seeping into the metal like it was drinking the blood.
People who held it claimed they could hear it talking to them in voices that came from somewhere else.
I'd never heard it myself, but I also didn't use swords.
In the end, I kept Chimamire locked in the armory because Reo wasn't comfortable with me taking it out. He said it carried too many restless spirits.
Meanwhile, I found it funny that Hiro was about to just hand it over to whoever won their little contest.
Hiro turned back to the Claws. "First place gets Chimamire. Second place gets bragging rights and a special meal from the Tiger."